London After Midnight - A Letter to God | Текст песни

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• London After Midnight
• A Letter to God

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Is this life, this degradation,
This pointless game, humiliation,
Born to die, we're born to lose
And not one choice we make we choose,
And when this life is at an end
We find that Death's our only friend,
Must we suffer through your games, oh Lord?
Can God really be so bored?

We waste our lives destroying, hating,
While beneath our flesh a skull lies waiting,
Blind to beauty, blind to love,
We fear of our loving Lord above,
Some live their lives to play their games,
Some live as victims, the insane,
Your experiment, oh Lord, has failed
And I trust that when we meet you will forgive us

It's futile so I'll end this note
And find a knife and slit my throat
And come to track you down, oh Lord,
You better watch your back,
Be sure that when we meet you'll be surprised,
No loving praise, no glee filled cries,
Just pain and hate and tear filled sighs
And the question in the end is "Why?"